Echoes Novel Novels & Stories

One Echo went down screaming as a dart hit him. I closed my eyes and reached for the resonance inside me. Kael’s hand gripped my waist, grounding me. I focused on the pleasure still lingering in my body from earlier, on the bond between us, and pushed. A wave of blue-gold energy rippled outward from me. The soldiers stumbled. Some dropped their weapons as their own tech started glitching. Several nearby Echoes steadied, their eyes clearing. “It’s working!” Rafe shouted. But it wasn’t enough. More soldiers poured in. One of them spotted me and raised a strange rifle.

He decided to clean up the house while he was here, he didn’t want to be idol and get the crazy thoughts that seem to be his new companion in his head, he didn’t like the directions his thoughts always takes, there was nothing positive about it and it sometimes even scared the hell out of him, he started by taking out their used clothes that they hadn’t washed before they left for the hospital, he could easily have thrown them away but he chose to wash them, after which he swept the whole house and cleaned every bit of them, even while cleaning all he could think of was Liam, he was everywhere in the house, everything he touched gave him flashbacks to something they did together, it made him

Emotions and life and death filter into my already-bereaved soul. It's like pouring water into a pot that is already filled to the brim. I feel my eyes rolling back into my head, and the voices come back in a rush. Alora. Alora. Alora. Hands reach out to me-all these Wolves in the room around me have people who they have lost over their lifetimes. Now, these ghosts and spirits run towards me like moths to a flame. I'm their lighthouse in a stormy sea. "What..." Marcus stares at me, letting me go slowly, "Who are "

Some had three eyes, some had limbs of shifting geometry, but they all had the same expression of profound, eternal loneliness. In the center of this ghost-nursery stood Leo. He looked solid compared to them. His projection was vibrant, his gold and lavender light illuminating the gloom. He was walking through the mist, reaching out his hand to a small, blue-skinned girl whose lower half dissolved into a trail of binary code. "You’re cold," Leo said, his voice echoing through the psychic link. "We are the Echoes," the girl replied. Her voice wasn't one; it was a thousand voices from a thousand dead worlds. "We are the parts the Source couldn't use. We are the memories that were too heavy for

she asked. “I think you’ve never seen the cost of looking too deep,” he said finally, voice low enough to seem half-swallowed by the rain. “Echo isn’t just files, Savannah. It’s architecture—one built with roots deeper than anyone alive remembers. You open one door, ten others will open themselves. And when they do, you’ll wish you could burn the building down before they find you.”

I was talking to Jasmine on F******k chat when the power went out, - I walked toward the door; my body moved on its own; it was like I was living the memory again, -I'm scared. -Nothing is going to happen to you; are you going to leave your room? -Yeah. -Well, go on alone; you can do it, and whatever you see, remember that you are safe, Anna. Swallowing thickly, I opened the door to my room. There was only darkness. I guided myself by touching the wall to get to the stairs when a noise behind me caught my attention. I turned my body slightly and saw the figure of a man in contrast to the window behind him. He was dressed all in black, with a cloth mask covering his face.

Somehow, he knew it. It was him. But wrong. Elliot swore under his breath. Isla took a slow step forward, her knife raised, but the figure didn’t move. It simply stared. Then, without warning It spoke. “You’re running out of time.” Ethan’s pulse spiked. The voice wasn’t deep or distorted. It wasn’t monstrous. It was his own. A rush of memories crashed through him. Flashes of moments he’d never lived. Places he’d never been. A hallway. Endless and twisting.

She prayed Mike wouldn't see the faint tremble in her hands or the fear lurking behind her eyes. "So...what questions do you want to ask me?" Mike's gaze lingered on her, his eyes searching for any hint of familiarity. The resemblance was uncanny, and he struggled to reconcile his emotions. His hands twitched with the urge to reach out and touch her, to hug her tightly and cry on her shoulder. The ache of missing his late girlfriend, May, felt like a fresh wound.